Bootsy Collins, funk's star attraction

There's an expectation or hope that comes along with talking to a character on the order of funk legend Bootsy Collins.

You hope that the man who between his time backing up both James Brown and George Clinton did as much as anybody to make the bass guitar a spotlight-level instrument will uncork a bit of verbal magic without delving into self-parody. That he'll drop a bon mot that suggests just how deeply the funk is ingrained in him as not just a form of artistic expression but also as a beacon for life and how to live it.

So William Earl "Bootsy" Collins comes on the phone, and good naturedly talks about the creative inspiration for his new album, "Tha Funk Capital of the World" and the accompanying tour that brings him to ACL Live on Sunday.

It's all pleasant, appropriately revealing and businesslike. Turns out the album featuring enough high-profile guest stars to fill out the roll call of next year's Source Awards (Ice Cube, Snoop Dogg, Samuel L. Jackson and Bobby Womack are a few of the names) was made with the intention of bringing classic funk music to younger ears who are mostly used to overprocessed AutoTune-heavy production.

It's a record that's organic and alive at all points, where Collins' old cohorts like Catfish Collins and Womack make room for the more contemporary voices, and where a lightning-rod intellectual like Cornel West gets four minutes of musical backing to riff on the long-term cost of poorly made short-term decisions by today's youth and leaders.

Less focus on dollar bills, more on heart and soul, Collins explains, and it's hard to argue with that. While not exactly the Lord's work, taking as much T-Pain as possible off the culture's musical balance sheet has to be worth something in the grand scheme of things. And if Sly Stone is still mired in some sort of psychotic hell and Prince is OK with putting out middling albums for the rest of his days, then Collins is right there in the lineage of funk and R&B heroes who can take up that charge and have a puncher's chance of getting it done. Still, something's missing. It's obvious the funk still lives in him, that it drives him and he wants to share it with the world. But it's all sounding kind of serious and heavy, and 10 minutes into a 15-minute interview there hasn't been that moment that gets to how intensely joyous and effusive this music and the man making it can be.

Then talk turns to the tour, which at the time of the interview Collins and his band members were still rehearsing for. Collins gets to explaining that it's a feel-it-as-it-comes process, and the record's deep bench of guests — many of whom can drop in only for a show or two at a time, if at all — will make the tour a bit of a patchwork that will require them to improvise from night to night.

That's when it happens, when it becomes obvious why he rarely disappoints.

"The funk is not pre-planned, so we're gonna see what the funk happens."

Does anything more need to be said? Probably not, but here's the rest anyway.

"We'll get whoever we can and shake it up from gig to gig," Collins said. "We're just going to give the people great music. Things might change a little bit once you get out there and you feel what people are into... what they need more of or less of so you always have to change it up.

"We haven't toured like this since 1998 so it's like it's a whole new experience. Once you get over the hump it's just showtime and you just grind it out until everyone falls into a groove. But the people ... they will help us back into it."

The Robfather and Chief Featherbrain

In his "Previously on Survivor" opening spiel, Jeff Probst said of Matt, aka, Dr. Jesus: "Matt's time on Redemption Island finally came to an end," when he should have said: "Dr. Jesus's time on Zombie Island finally came to a momentary pause."

Dr. Jesus waxed philosophical about his second blindside. He shouldn't. He's not good at it. "First and Foremost, I'd like to congratulate myself on being the most naive person ever to play the game of Survivor." As always, he gives himself too much credit. Erik letting the girls talk him into giving away his Hidden Immunity Idol, and then instantly voting him out on Survivor: Micronesia, the time James got voted out while he had two Immunity Idol in his pocket (but he was also glad to see me), and of course, JT giving his idol to Russell a year ago, were all more naive than Dr. Jesus's boneheaded play last week. He gets, at best, 4th place. Or rather 5th, also behind Tyson, the idiot who managed to vote himself out in Survivor: Heroes vs Villains.

Dr. Jesus also said: "I am reaping the benefits of my shame." Actually Doc, you're reaping the shame of your stupidity.

Dr. Jesus had a chat with his imaginary god as he put on his socks. (It was a formal chat.) He blathered on about how it was God's Will that he return to Zombie Island, though he remains puzzled by his god's will. I remain puzzled as to how someone allegedly in pre-med could believe in an all-powerful being running the entire universe that nonetheless has time to plot out and micro-manage every tiny detail of Dr. Jesus's life for him. Man, he's stupid. The concept that who wins a TV game show is utterly unimportant in any "Great Scheme of Things" doesn't cross his tiny mind.

He summed it up with a lyrical bit of idiot reasoning: "I trust You. This is Your will, You using my stupidity for Your glory." I'll give his imaginary god props for using the only resource available to Her, Dr. Jesus's stupidity, though I can't help wondering about a few things:

1. Wouldn't it have reflected greater glory on Dr. Jesus's god if She had created The Doc as intelligent instead of hopelessly dumb?

2. Hasn't Dr. Jesus's imaginary god got any more worthwhile goals than just receiving greater and greater glory all the time? Why is the highest thing a human can do heaping further glory on this Divine Egomaniac? His god sounds like a Roman Emperor.

3. Is a god that is so utterly consumed by Her ego that She must seek "glory" all the time, and constantly be praised by her human minions, really worth worshiping? Wouldn't ending world hunger, or ending disease, or ending warfare be a more worthwhile goal than seeking glory through Dr. Jesus's admittedly abundant stupidity playing out on a TV game show?

4. I guess poor God is stuck having to employ the stupidity of Her followers, because smart people know better than to fall for The Christian Con.

Back at Camp Winnie-the-Pooh (Rob named it "Murlonio" after one of his wife's stuffed animals.), David and Mike had to congratulate Rob on the brilliance of his "mob hit" on Dr. Jesus. Rob smiled, thanked them, and kept them on his hit list.

Julie felt the voting out of Dr. Jesus was cold-blooded. "Do you not have any feeling at all for a human being?" Julie, what game are you playing? Nice Guy Island? Rob is playing Survivor. And if you don't start playing it too, you will be joining the jury.

Knowing they are in big trouble numbers-wise, the former Viva Zapatans were scrambling. Mansweater tried to pump Ashley-or-Andrea and Natalie, but hit a stone wall of "We don't know." I'll bet every teacher they ever had was used to hearing that sentence from them.

Mansweater tried offering a deal to them for final three votes, but they couldn't discuss betraying Rob without written permission from Rob and Major League Baseball.

Rob is playing a master's game. He's re-solidified his team, got them refusing to talk with the other tribe, encouraging them to be arrogant and rude to the other tribe, while he himself remains the soul of diplomacy and reasonableness. Brilliant. And he knows that Phillip, aka Agent Dumb Ass, needs little encouragement to be arrogant, superior, and insane.

Natalie reported Mansweater's approach back to Rob, and Ashley-or-Andrea didn't. Oops. Now Rob knows that Ashley-or-Andrea was given an offer that she didn't report back to The Robfather. Fredo, you broke my heart. All deal offers from Viva Zapatans must be reported to Rob in triplicate.a